the cheese stands alone

Swoon

As usual, when I went out of the house today, I met someone... different.

I went to the Commissary to stock up on pre-Thanksgiving goodies. Now, the Commissary has a rule that unless it's only one bag, you have to have a carry-out. You can't take your own stuff. I always overtip them, because luck of the draw usually assigns me an ancient little woman, stooped and creaky. Guilt is a great motivator on that tip action.

Today I got a tiny, delicate mahogany gentleman, with the sweetest Cajun accent I've ever heard. His voice was like old velvet, worn soft over the years.
And he seemed so very familiar, while we talked about the weather and the recent fires and the price of artichokes as we slowly, old-man-slowly, walked to my car.

Finally we got my groceries loaded in, and I had to say something about the deja vu rush. I wanted to ask him if maybe I hadn't been helped to my car by him before, but what came out was:
"Haven't I had you before?"
He smiled so big his eyes crinkled up like hot raisins. Then he took my hand and brought it up to his lips.
"Darlin' you would KNOW if you evah had me, lawd."

You can't tip nearly enough for that.